


Lesser evil

by ToastedRoach



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Derogatory Language, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Flirting, Ghoul/Human Relationships, Hate Sex, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Canonical Violence, Prostitution, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, S&M, learning to love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-22 23:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14319282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastedRoach/pseuds/ToastedRoach
Summary: Charon hates every bone in Cameron's body but as long as he works for Ahzrukhal he can't do anything but seethe with rage and hope the vaultie overdoses or someone luckier puts a bullet into his brainpan.I've wanted to write this story since 2011 when I played with this certain Lone Wanderer. Since the beginning it was clear that he was a nasty ghoul lover, and also that Charon would not like to work for him. I'm trying to follow the original story concept but also update it (yes and give it the obligatory happy ending). I've given Charon a little 200 year old backstory that will reveal itself more in following chapters.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags!!! If you're bothered by homophobic language and hate, please do not read. This is about characters growing and learning that their old beliefs are wrong.

1

Serving Ahzrukhal has never been easy, and never a particular pleasure. But since the vault kid came along Charon has been suffering in his own personal hell. He hates the brat and yet he can't show his true feelings. It's not likely he will ever forget the first time Cameron showed up at Underworld. The ghoul city doesn't get many human visitors and from Charon's point of view this one should've been killed the moment he set foot outside his comfy vault. Still, there he was, joking about taking on a super mutant and having the bruises to prove it, sipping on his drink with a flirty smile.

"Just show me the real goods", the kid said to Ahzrukhal while clearly displaying his own, and a couple of Jets later when the bar was closing he casually stated he didn't have a single cap on him and sure there were some other ways to pay his tab. Ten minutes later he was face down on the table next to where Charon stood, pushing his ass up and whimpering like a bitch in heat while Ahzrukhal fucked him as feral as a ghoul can.

The memory makes Charon cringe. Since the first time Cameron has come by every week or so, always broke, always looking for chems and every time the evening ended with the bartender plowing his ass and making Charon watch. Even worse, the kid was always looking at him. Smiling, licking his lips, sometimes winking at him. He looked into Charon's eyes when he came and when Charon pulled his gaze away disgusted he saw Ahzrukhal grinning. That son of a bitch... Since then he's been neck deep in something he didn't sign up for, something he didn't believe even an evil bastard like Ahzrukhal would make him do: when Ahzrukhal is done fucking Cameron he pulls out, wipes his cock on the boy's clothes and orders Charon to finish the job. The ultimate degradation.

He had almost started to hope the kid got himself killed since he didn't show up for almost three weeks. But as sure as super mutants are green, here the nasty slut is again, walking through the doors to the Ninth Circle, already high like a bird in flight, dressed in torn jeans and a t-shirt that's showing way too much. Charon wants to puke as he watches the kid lean over the bar to greet Ahzrukhal with a kiss.

"There's my little ghoul lover", Ahzrukhal purrs. "I was starting to miss you, and Charon too." Does he have to? There are still other customers in the room. No matter how drunk or high the patrons are, they notice the smoothskin visitor and know why the boy is here. Nothing stays secret in Underworld for long. Charon barely contains himself. He'd pull his gun and execute both of those disgusting pieces of Wasteland refuse - if he wasn't bound to his duty by one fateful contract. Now all he can do is seethe with hate and watch and wish that one day the vaultie overdoses or someone luckier than him puts a bullet into his brainpan.

"Ah, it's been so hot this summer", Ahzrukhal goes on with the smalltalk. "You don't seem to be too bothered. Used to ghouls, eh?" He leans closer to the boy and slips one hand under Cameron's shirt to play with his nipples. No big feat, that shirt is short enough to give full view to his pointy nipples when he rests his body against the counter. Cameron moans softly and pushes his ass out. But he too must notice this isn't the right place or time. Instead of answering he produces a drug out of his bag and shows it to the bartender.

"Ultrajet. But that's my last. Was saving it for tonight." As if it had some special meaning. Charon could bet the kid sleeps with any man who's retarded enough to choose a male whore over the large selection of paid female companions.

"So... You don't even smell this, do you?" Curious his voice. Or just the tiniest bit of concerned?

"Nope. Haven't smelled a thing since at least five days. It didn't screw up my tastebuds though." His last words are but a whisper but Charon's senses are so sharp they are perfectly clear: "I wanna taste your rotten zombie cock. Cum in my mouth and fill my tummy. I wanna drink all of your nasty ghoul jizz."

Ahzrukhal laughs in that certain way that means he certainly will do what the vault kid wants - and more. Charon keeps his mouth shut and his expression stony, with much effort. The bitter taste of vomit fills his senses. As soon as he's sure that both his employer and the boy whore are busy tangling their tongues Charon moves closer to the table and spits a blob of yellow slime into the ashtray. His throat burns. Right now he could really use a drink just to get the taste out of his mouth, and maybe dull his senses a little. How long does he still have to suffer? His eyes wander back to the bar no matter how hard he tries to avoid it. The vault kid reminds him of someone from his past he has tried to forget. Cameron's ass crack is showing and getting attention from some of the older patrons. A man who comes here for his whiskey and Jet limps past the bar on his way out. His bony, dried up ghoul hand squeezes the boy's ass making him gasp. Cameron parts his lips shiny with saliva and gives the old ghoul a sloppy smile that promises more. Charon's urge to leave the room has become unbearable. There's a dull pain in the back of his head but even worse than that is his throbbing erection. He knows he's leaking and it's only a matter of time before the worn leather on his pants is soaked through.

He will have that ass soon enough. It's almost closing time. Charon hates to feel this way. He despises the dirty pleasure he gets from fucking Cameron. He might be forced to do it but it's his own cock that betrays him, getting painfully hard just from seeing the vault slut. For his mind the only pleasure is to see the boy suffer. He can ignore his treacherous body as long as his mind stays pure.

"Closing time!" Ahzrukhal announces. "Get your rotting asses out of here."

That gives Charon a much needed break. A little breather to calm down and get soft again. Remind himself that the boy is a disgusting homo and in the old times he would've been executed for his sins against nature. Charon is nothing like that little piece of shit. His body is merely acting up. He hates summer and to be stuck at Underworld, he hates Ahzrukhal and the situation is generally frustrating. No wonder he feels all this weird shit. It'll get better. Even someone like Cameron has to eventually leave. _At least I'll outlive him by centuries._

\--

Greta has tried to offer the kid a cheap bed, but he said no. Instead, when he leaves the Ninth Circle he'll roll out his sleeping bag in the concourse and spend the night under the belly of the furry giant of ancient times. Charon once knew how the animal was called. In his past life he saw their bones dug out of the ground at the foot of the mountains he called home. He has forgotten it all now. He has pushed the past out of his mind and keeps on doing so, unshakeable in the faith that it no longer has a meaning.

Often he sees Cameron on the podest when coming home from an errand. The boy is just sitting there, staring holes in the air, or laying on his back eyes closed and a Jet inhaler at his lips. Charon tries not to come and go at the same time than Willow. He'd rather avoid the discussion. It used to be about Ahzrukhal. Now it's all about the vaultie. Willow feels bad for the kid, Charon doesn't understand why. Why does she care? Scum like that has not earned the empathy of the good people. So he tries his best to sneak in and out while Willow is doing her rounds. He's not happy to see Cameron either but usually he's in a hurry and can ignore the slut.

Tonight he's coming home later than usual, cursing in his mind - both the Brotherhood of Steel who forced him to take the long way around and Ahzrukhal for certainly yelling at him as soon as he enters the bar. He doesn't see Willow. He steps in through the heavy wooden doors. And comes to a halt realizing the opportunity he's got.

Cameron is there, moving restlessly in his sleep. Alone. Underworld is asleep, silent, blind. Burning rage hits Charon like a tidal wave. He moves without a sound, pulling out his knife. He'll get rid of the useless vault bastard and dump his body outside, make it look like super mutants got him. He'll never have to worry about seeing him again. No more humiliation, no suffering. Ahzrukhal won't care and feral dogs will gnaw the flesh from the vaultie's bones before sun rises over the city. The thought is satisfying and brings him peace. Carefully he places his bag on the ground, staying out of direct sight and closing in on his prey. He climbs on the podest like a ghost, crouching above the sleeping boy. Then he listens. Something shines in the dim light. Something wet on Cameron's face.

The knife is pulled back. _He's crying._ Charon steps on something laying next to the boy sobbing in his sleep. Empty syringes. _Three doses of Med-X should've knocked him out cold..._

Cameron's movements grow erratic. Not a pleasant dream it seems. Charon can't help but be curious. He's smiling, he's pleased to see the boy suffer.

"Ah, I'm s-sorry... Please..." The words are slurred and don't make much sense. "Ahh, don't. Don't, please, dad, it hurts. I... I'll do whatever you want... J-just please... Don't go away. Don't leave me alone with them." Suddenly he screams in agony and pushes his arms away from his body, almost punching Charon. The ghoul drops into the shadows.

He leans against the cold stone podest, his head spinning and his heart pounding impossibly loud.

\--

_"I'm counting on you, Marco." Sergeant Pace pats his shoulder. "I know I can trust you to always follow orders. Deal with this and your loyalty will be rewarded. The commander will take care of Gibson himself."_

_He doesn't question his orders. He leads the hooded criminal in front of the firing squad, removes the hood and steps into line with his fellow soldiers._

_"Profligate Jack Rayne. You have been found guilty of the crimes of indecency, sodomy and offering sexual favors to a commanding officer in exchange of an amount of twenty-five dollars. Each and every one of these crimes is being punished by death. Due to the severity of your offenses and the involvement of a member of the military you are to be executed by a firing squad. The punishment is being carried out on October 1st in the year 2077, 5.26 pm. Any last words, profligate?"_

_He looks the boy in the eyes. He sees the tears, he hears the pleas, he raises his hand as a sign for his team to lift their rifles. He gives the order and is deafened by the gunshots that come in unison, and he watches the boy with a pretty smile slump to the ground. The nice kid who asked him for cigarettes. Whose parents had been murdered by insurgents, who had no other place to go than the military camp. A skinny boy with good manners and a dreamy look in his eyes. A child who still believed in a better, brighter future._

\--

_You liked him, didn't you, Marco?_

"Shut up", Charon whispers so silent only he can hear it. He dares to peek over to Cameron. The boy's eyes are open but he can't see the ghoul. Sunken deep into a chem-induced trance he's reliving a memory, whispering the same words over and over. He does not react to Charon rising to his feet.

"I miss you daddy. Please wake up. Please..." The boy looks up, still not seeing Charon. "Daddy, please hold me. Wake up. Don't go away. Can we go home now? I wanna go home." He's whole body shakes. When he's not boasting with bratty confidence his shoulders seem so narrow and his frame so small. His eyes those of a hungry, trapped animal.

So much about being spiteful. Charon walks away with that scared child's voice filling his head and making him nauseous. Before returning to Ahzrukhal he goes to Winthrop's room and wakes the technician up with a kick in the shin. Winthrop is never happy to deal with Charon, or vice versa. But snooping around is not something Charon does and he can't trust anyone else to do it discreetly.

"That hurt," Winthrop protests and Charon throws some caps on his lap.

"This will stay between you and me, understood? I need you to find out what's up with that damned vault kid. Dig out every detail about his family and what he's been up to, how long it's been since he left the vault, anything."

"And what do you plan to do with that information?"

"That's none of your business. And if you happen to get the bright idea of asking Ahzrukhal, I will make your life here very hard." He knows threats are not effective in getting Winthrop to do anything. The man needs a bait, figuratively speaking. He sighs. "You're always out of spare parts, aren't you? Well, he goes out, he could bring you some. Chat with him. Offer him a drink or some Jet. You're more resourceful than you think."

He hates doing this. He hates the very idea of doing this for himself, not because Ahzrukhal ordered it. But what just happened bothers him too much to just leave it be. Also it seems that now he can't kill the boy either. He can't handle seeing Jack's face again. It's all in the past, damnit. He stomps angrily upstairs and drops Ahzrukhals caps on the counter behind the bar. Tonight he will allow himself a beer. Maybe two. Anything to silence the voices from the past.

\--

Cameron has hauled a sack full of scrap metal to Winthrop. They stand at the doorway and it's not hard to hear what is being said. Becoming a ghoul killed Charon's sense of taste but made the others sharper. Sometimes the clothes he wears hurt his peeling skin and when he goes out he can feel every movement of the air on it. Ghouls get used to it, he's been told, but Charon never does. If anything it gets more and more annoying. Especially on rainy days.

"This one has a lot of screws and stuff", Cameron says handing a piece of scrap to Winthrop. "And this was a part of an airplane. You said you needed circuits and it has them inside. I guess. Would've brought you a radio thingy from Germantown but the fucker was sooo heavy!" He laughs in a way that seems weirdly normal and innocent compared to the kid's usual behavior. He's wearing actual pants and shirt too, and some sort of mix-matched raider armor. For Charon it's odd seeing him like this. He's used to another Cameron. Maybe the kid is sober? No, his movements are still erratic and he's dragging his feet. Typical for junkies who spike their Jet with Psycho. And Cameron eventually says things he shouldn't. Not to Winthrop. Charon doesn't like the technician but he respects the work he's doing all alone. His hands grip the balcony railing hard enough to break off some porous stone.

Cameron's smile becomes flirty. "And you really don't need anything else? I can make it worth your while."

_I'll kill you with my bare hands, faggy._

Winthrop doesn't seem to be offended though. He just smiles as if he understood. "Sorry kid. I'm not into your kind. What makes us ghouls so attractive to you anyway? It's...unusual."

_Smoothskins are too wise to fuck him. So he comes after us, thinking we're so desperate for a hole we take anything. Figures..._

"You're all nice to me. Other people... They're not. I've been to Rivet City and Megaton and other places. People are mean. I don't care if they treat me like shit but they hurt each other and they were nasty to my dad." Cameron fumbles on a piece of cable, his head bowed. His voice is quiet and humble and twists Charon's guts. Why can't the boy be just a ghoul-fucker and Ahzrukhal's whore? Why's he gotta be hurt and sad? Normal and nice?

_Why so much like the Rayne kid?_

"When I came out of the vault I found Megaton. Have you been there? One of the bars has a ghoul bartender. He was the first ghoul I met and the nicest person ever. He told me about dad when no one else would. Bunch of assholes those people but I liked the ghoul. He told me about your town too. After that I've met quite a lot of your kind and... I don't know why but I just like how it feels to... You know." He blushes. "It's much better than with other men. A ghoul is much softer and...wetter. Back home they were mean and having sex always hurt. With ghouls it feels good. And since dad's gone I don't have anyone. So it's just chems and ghouls... Sorry. It's stupid."

Winthrop steps forward to hug the vault kid. Charon closes his eyes to save his soul from damnation, turns on his heels and returns to his usual place to watch over the drunks in Ahzrukhal's bar.

\--

"I'll give you the pleasure of informing him yourself."

Charon sees Ahzrukhal grinning wide the moment he steps into the bar. Something went down while he was out and he has a feeling it's not going to be nice. No, not nice at all. He sits down at his table like usual. Not many people are around. Cameron is sitting at the counter. The boy's been here a lot more than before. Three days in row, most of the time spent in Ninth Circle. Talking shit with Ahzrukhal, flirting with elderly patrons, generally being a pain in the ass. Underworld citizens have gotten used to him being around though, and he's helping out here and there. Charon is convinced the kid's got more luck than skill, but he and Quinn brought in quite a load of supplies and spare parts and according to the trader the vault kid can hold his own in a fight. Yeah yeah, he's got the scars to prove it, Charon's heard that so often he's sick of it. He still hates every moment he has to spend in the same room with Cameron but he's been able to numb his senses enough to not vomit.

Cameron finishes his beer and turns around, holding something in his hand. The kid marches to Charon's table with the dumbest smile on his face, high on more than just Jet. _That's it. He's gonna get his teeth knocked out right now._ Charon stands up, securing a fighting stance. But he doesn't have time to give the first punch.

"Oh no, none of that. You belong to me now", the little bitch says with his usual sloppy smile. He giggles. "I'm your new employer."

"What?" Charon sits back down shocked. Certainly he heard wrong.

But Cameron slaps _that_ piece of paper on the table, looks Charon deep in the eyes with those emotionless dilated pupils and explains: "I bought your contract from Ahzrukhal."

_He did what?_ "You. Did. What?"

"Bought. Your. Contract. From Ahzrukhal. Like I said. You work for me now."

There's an odd echo of sanity in those words. Something very different than what he has seen of Cameron so far. Something cold and calculated and...adult. Cameron is barely grown up and normally acts like a little brat. This is... He can't find words. And he doesn't need to look at Ahzrukhal to know the bartender is amused to no end. Is this one of his cruel games? Well, no more. Whatever his reason for this ultimate betrayal - this dishonor - Charon is now free of his debt. Being sold like a slave burns him. Being sold to someone like Cameron - it's propably the worst thing in existence. But all that is manageable. A lesser evil. The vaultie will get punished in due time. First and foremost there's Ahzrukhal.

"You purchased my contract from Ahzrukhal? So, I am no longer in his service. That is good to know." He rises and walks over to the bar. He pulls his shotgun and fires. Two shots, straight to the heart. No more Ahzrukhal. No more Commander Keeley. No more.

 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charon is now traveling with Cameron, mostly hunting for food and collecting stuff to sell, without a certain goal. Along the way Charon changes his opinion of his new "owner" and develops fond feelings too, which he tries to deny. One night they stay at Paradise Falls and everything changes forever.
> 
> Read the notes and tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of childhood abuse, incest and rape. Some graphic violence. Me and Charon just suffered a mental breakdown. This is the hurt, third chapter will be the comfort. Sort of. This might belong to the "dead dove, do not eat" category.
> 
> **Read the tags!** The last thing I want is to traumatize a reader. If at any point my writing makes you feel sick - stop right there and do not continue! (It's no use to leave hateful comments about that btw. If you choose to ignore the warnings and read something you don't like it's your problem, not mine, and it will certainly not stop me from writing more of this stuff.)

2

This thing, traveling together, it isn't bad. Charon is no longer stuck at Underworld. No more collecting debts or smashing kneecaps. Free to roam, free to go almost anywhere he wants. Going there with Cameron is a small price to pay. And the kid has stepped up his act, trying to be civilized around Charon, leaving him alone.

In return Charon does his best to tolerate Cameron's bratty behaviour whenever they are visiting a settlement. It's still odd to see the change. Charon quickly got used to the quiet boy walking a few steps ahead of him when they explore and hunt. He'd like to avoid all contact to humans but they have to trade for water and supplies. And every time they do Cameron leaves him and goes after any man who is willing to pay for sexual favors. Not just ghouls – in fact it seems that he's mostly going after humans now. For some reason it bothers Charon immensely.

_He used to do it with his own dad._

Cold chills run down Charon's spine when he remembers the information he got from Winthrop. He throws another log into the fire. Had he known his contract was for sale he would've killed Ahzrukhal a long time ago. His eyes wander over to where Cameron sleeps. The hot season has passed and the Wasteland is dry, waiting for the fall.

_Did he only have sex with Ahzrukhal as a payment for my contract? Why would-_

He shakes his head to kill the thought before it forms. Cameron makes a sound in his sleep. The silent whimper that has the power to shrudder the core of Charon's soul. The boy is having a nightmare again. Charon knows which one. He's here to witness it every night. Whimpers, tears, muttered words, the emptiness in the boy's eyes when he wakes up screaming. Charon might not like the vault kid but watching him suffer night after night has become painful. He never thought he'd wish Cameron's nightmares to go away but every time he hears the first sound he feels the urge to wake the boy up and make it stop. Do something, anything.

_You're getting soft. He suffers the consequences of his own evil deeds. That is God's will and you're God's soldier. You're too weak to follow your mission and end his life, so you must watch and see how he withers away. You must not let him corrupt your mind. Remember your oath._

The crying begins and something snaps in Charon's head. He reaches out a leg and kicks the boy in the back. Cameron cries out loud, rolls over and makes an attempt to get up. His eyes are big and scared but he's awake.

“Are we being attacked?” He grabs his laser pistol and keeps the crouching position, spying around.

Charon feels sick and dizzy. Sure he has thought about hurting the boy. Killing him in his sleep. But actually using violence is something completely different. Maybe he has really gotten soft after spending so much time with the damn little-

“You were having a nightmare.” He forces the words out of his mouth. They taste bitter, like betrayal. His eyes and lungs burn, every bone and muscle hurts. “You were calling his name again.”

“S-sorry.” Cameron slumps down on his bedroll. “Thanks for waking me.”

They stare at the fire and the night is silent. When Charon finally looks up he sees tears on the boy's face again. He'd rather not see them but he can't look away. With odd fascination he watches Cameron wipe his eyes and nose. Like a little child who got hurt. A little child... How could a child be evil? Maybe God just forgot to watch over him and someone made him this way.

_Stop it right there Marco. You know where those thoughts are going to lead you. Stay true to-_

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, against his will. Or not. He needs to know the truth, not just scraps pieced together by the rumors Winthrop was able to gather and by what he has observed during the past month. Maybe they both are too tired and hurt to fight anymore because when Cameron lowers his gaze as a 'yes', Charon moves to the other side of the campfire to sit next to the boy.

“He won't hurt you anymore. No one will.” _I'm here to protect you._

A moment of weakness. Cameron leans against his shoulder, Charon doesn't shove the kid away.

“He's gone. Killed by the Enclave. The rest of them are still in the vault.”

“The rest of them?” The words wake up a dark fear Charon has not felt in more than 200 years. The marks of his tribe's initiation ritual have long disappeared, he no longer has a skin to begin with, but he still feels the burning and hears the shouting. The features of the chieftain are carved into his mind and tonight they are as crisp and clear as on the night of his coming of age.

“The overseer. All the guards.” Cameron's voice breaks into a sob.

“How many?”

“I don't know.”

\--

The lights of Paradise Falls come closer and Charon follows Cameron despite telling the boy he won't go anywhere near the slaver town.

It's a place of sin. Charon remembers well his encounters with both Penelope Chase and Harmon Jurley. During Penelope's reign he and Ahzrukhal used to come here a lot, sell captured ghouls and while his boss and the Black Widow dealt with some 'intimate' business Charon was given free access to the slave pens. To have fun, release pressure, whatever he wanted. Penelope's slaves were young and pretty, or older but strong and nice to look at. They stared at Charon with eyes full of numb hate but never resisted. He used to pick the younger men, to humiliate them out in the open, make them feel inferior to a “damn zombie”. All those years he was just doing his master's bidding.

Cameron turns to look at him, smiling. “Relax. Everything's gonna be fine. I know how to deal with them.”

_Sure, with your ass._

Ahzrukhal approved of him bullying the weak. Enjoyed to irritate him by forcing him to break the rules. For Ahzrukhal the honor codex had no meaning.

Charon watches the vault kid jump from a rock, excited to spend a night with slaver scum. _I could raise him. Teach him what I know._ The real values, honor, respect, manners. Keeley may have broken his oath but Charon never will. He's the guardian hound of the Appalachian mountains, last descendant of a mighty tribe and loyal soldier of God's army. Not Keeley's army. He's supposed to protect people, not abuse his power.

He should've never returned. Never agreed to help out Ahzrukhal.

Why did he leave? Roaming the world as a ghoul changed him somehow. No, Keeley's orders changed. There was no more purity in his preaching, he wanted Charon to kill innocents, and then the truth slipped from him. He didn't punish commander Gibson, just sent him to an outpost. Out of the sight, out of the mind. The disgusting pig's crimes against God and humanity went unpunished while Charon was given the order to execute Jack Rayne.

The kid just wanted something to eat and had nothing else to sell but his body.

Charon slows down his pace. _Let's not go. We can get water elsewhere._ He can't say it aloud. He has never met Eulogy Jones but if the man is anything like his predecessors he doesn't want the slaver to touch Cameron. The feeling of fear, laced with anger. Cameron has been touched by too many dirty hands.

They have not talked since that night when they sat side by side. They've not been close to each other either. Charon feels shame, he spends his evenings recalling the holy words from the codex, and it occurred to him that Cameron is also ashamed. He didn't believe the boy was capable of any decency. Now he knows why Cameron has been trying so hard to hide his slutty side.

Charon is quite sure he actually saw the kid blush while their hands accidentally touched once. Just the thought of it makes his ancient ghoul heart pound faster.

There's a new guy at the gate and it looks like they still don't bother cleaning up the remains of the attempted runaways. Like usual Cameron is not bothered by the smell. Also he seems to know this Grouse fellow well enough to throw the man a flirty smile as they pass. Charon almost reaches for his weapon. The urge to blow off the slaver's head is overpowering. Good for him Grouse doesn't notice his twitching hand and allows them to pass. And with trading soon concluded the fun part of the night can begin.

Paradise Falls has never been a thriving community and since Eulogy Jones' leadership the second bar has been shut down. All they have is the open air one with watered down liquor. Ymir was a young lad when Charon last saw him. Through some miracle or a pretty slave girl the man has produced a son. Retarded, but might do well enough as a slaver.

“How's Ahzrukhal?” Ymir asks, offering Charon a drink.

“Dead”, the ghoul answers grimly.

“So the ghosts finally got him.”

“No. A buckshot.” He gulps down the booze, more than willing to end the conversation. Jotun stands next to him like a silent, dumb monster. Cameron appears from wherever he spent the past hour to release Charon from chatting with this deadbeat. The boy's lips are wet with slaver cum, his eyes dreamy, full of lust. _I want to make him mine._ Cameron is high again and Charon knows coming here was a mistake. But he's caught watching the kid flirt with Ymir anyway.

Cameron is beautiful. Everything Charon hates about him is beautiful, all the small unconscious movements Charon knows so well, the way the boy picks on his chapped lips when he thinks about something, even that barely noticeable, disgusting thrust with his hips to signalise arousal. And the blank stare whenever he's touched by men. Dreamy eyes turning to empty orbs as soon as Ymir's hairy grapples slip under his clothes. Charon can't get enough of watching his companion engage in these sick acts. He tastes vomit and his gut hurts, he's holding himself back with all his might when Ymir leans in to kiss Cameron and press the boy against the wall. Charon catches a glimpse of the look in Cameron's eyes and the pain becomes too much to bear. He's taking a step forward, lifting his arms to pull his gun and kill the slaver. The only thing that saves them both from certain death is a fist coming out of nowhere.

It hits Cameron between the eyes, knocking Ymir's head aside and Charon breathless as he realizes what was about to happen. Forty yanks Cameron back to his feet and more punches rain on the vault kid's limp body.

“You little piece of shit”, the man is shouting. “You belong into the slave pen and I'm gunna throw you in! Learned nothing from last time in The Box, huh? How 'bout I put one of those bomb collars on you? You'd love that, wouldn't you? Fucking idiot.”

All this time Cameron smiles. Blood running from his nose he still grinds his hips against the furious man, sunken into a state of trance where he feels nothing but perverted pleasure. Forty might soon have to change his name to Fortyone and the show has drawn attention from the other slavers around. Ymir and Carolina Red cheer and clap their hands. _So this is how you deal with them? This is what you call fun?_

Charon never sleeps. He doesn't feel the need to. But he's tired now. Dead tired. The spirits are calling him home, pulling him deep into the cold mountain night, him, the guardian. Ahzrukhal is there and his chieftain is there, mother, grandmother, the elders. Their hands reach out to Adagitli _. Come home, Marco. Be free._ He would like to go. Nothing more than that. All these years of committing himself to evil deeds, following orders and doing as told he's only ever wanted to be one with the spirits. Be Adagitli _._ Guard and protect his people. Commander Keeley's god doesn't exist. What god would let his children suffer and die? What god would turn a blind eye to abuse, hate and murder? The spirits will understand. He can't go home yet. He's Adagitli and he has a duty to fill.

It's over in a blink of an eye. He pulls himself back to light. Back to the slaver town filled with acts of useless, terrible violence.

He walks through the gathering crowd, ignoring the look of irritation and anger he gets from Forty, and grabs Cameron by the neck, his fingers digging deep into the boy's skin. It's softer than he imagined, the fragile spine just below the skin. But Charon means no harm. He's merely holding Cameron while dragging him out of this place of unnamed horrors. The same way he watched mountain cats carry their offspring to safety in the ancient time he roamed the woods, learning from the spirits and the nature.

\--

“If you don't want to tell me, fine”, the town medic, Red, says crouching over Cameron. “Just leave whatever trouble is following you outside of our town. We have had enough to deal with.”

She's good. She's put up with a lot to keep this place running and Charon is impressed of her will to survive – and even more of her dedication to her friends. While patching up Cameron she shared a story about a stranger who passed through a year ago and rescued her from Super Mutants. 'Some kind of a cowboy I think', she said. 'Dressed up like one of them old timey movie actors. He wasn't from around here, but oh man, he shot those muties down like bugs. With bullets made of fire. I'm not bullshitting you. I was sure Shorty was done for, but he pulled my friend out of there and brought us back home. And now we have proper defenses and a protectron and everything. Traders come again because the town is safe. We've not seen a single super mutant in months and the slavers leave us mostly alone.'

She had tears of gratitude in her eyes. The mystery man healed her dying friend and Charon can tell Red still secretly hopes for his return. He sits next to the hospital bed, holding Cameron's hand, checking the boy's pulse from time to time. Red shoves the empty first aid kit aside.

“Well it seems I need more bandages. But don't you worry, your friend is going to be alright.”

Charon chose Big Town for a reason: no one here knows him, and Cameron never bothered to visit either. All the residents are former Lamplight kids and they have little to no information about the Wasteland. And they stick to their home, simply happy to be alive. The town might develop into a successful community but right now it is just a safe place to lay low until they can return to Underworld.

It was Cameron's suggestion. After they left Paradise Falls and the kid was sober again. Charon's own memories of that night are blurry. All he knows is that he hurt Cameron. Bad.

“Are we home yet?”

Red was leaving the room and looks back suprised. Her patient should not be awake after the load of chems she gave him just a little while ago. Charon smiles at her as kindly as he can with his ugly rotting face. It's fine. We'll be fine.

Cameron squeezes his hand, weak from blood loss and the Stimpak doing it's job in his small body.

“We'll rest here for a while. We will be home soon. Go back to sleep.” He presses a gentle kiss on Cameron's forehead. _I will always protect you._

He could've killed Cameron that night. He might've wanted to. Cameron is not in Red's clinic because those few punches Forty threw at him. He's here because of what Charon did to him afterwards. Charon has not cried since becoming a ghoul and the liquid running from his eyes frightens him. When he lifts his free hand to wipe it off, scraps of bloodied paper flutter to the floor.

His contract. He ripped it to pieces just before brutally raping the one he loves.

 


End file.
